


Route 66

by stupidHumans (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, copious porn, hah made you look, i know what you're here for, truck driving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/stupidHumans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro takes up cross-country truck driving. Dave reluctantly goes along with him.</p><p> </p><p>(In the end he doesn't regret his decision one bit.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i know the beginning is short. hang in there guys.

"No."

You sigh. You knew this would be his answer.

Your name is Dirk and you're sitting in Denny's with your defiant punk of a younger brother.

"Dude, truck drivers make at  _least-_ "

"I really don't fucking care about that."

You fold your arms, your plate stacked with pancakes you've hardly touched. You look outside; it's foggy and humid, a Saturday morning. Cars speed by.

"Come on Dave. This is a really cool thing."

Dave stares at his food. "You'll be gone."

So that was his problem? You'd already fixed it before he could melodramatically and so  _teenager_ -ly lean back in his seat and pick at his food.

"You're going to come with me."

Dave looks up. He's excited, but remembers that he's supposed to be angry. He goes back to sulking, but you know you 've won.

"Come on. No one else but us and the open road, all across Texas and the whole country. Think about it," You say as you finally slice into a pancake. You know Dave doesn't want to surrender, but he starts eating again afer a mumbled "Fine."

"Thanks, bro."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's been a little bit since the first chapter so here goes nothing

Your name is Dave and you are hot as all hell.

            Bro's truck doesn't have any AC and he's too cheap to buy and install it, so sticky sweat is practically rolling off your forehead and is making for a very uncomfortable ride. Bro doesn't show any sign of discomfort, but you can clearly see the rotund wet spot on his back between his shoulder blades. Nah, he won't give in and just get some goddamn cool air. Instead, he whistles to the 90's pop music CD he bought at a gas station (you're considering Bro's choosings less and less ironic and more painful as the days go by) and drums his fingers against the wheel.

            "Bro, it's hot." You crane your neck back and lift your ass off the seat to keep from adhering to the sweltering vinyl. If you look hard enough, you can see the asphalt sizzling as you fly past it. You've been living in this cramped cabin for 4 years now, and are seriously doubting the intelligence behind your decision, as you've done much too many times before.

            Then you think about how much fun you've had and hold a stiff upper lip. Like that one time when you had to piss so Bro stopped at a convenience store because he also had to get snacks and _conveniently_ left you in Kentucky for three hours to rot with the old ladies and aisles of knock-offs just because the truck didn't have a TV and you told Bro you were grateful that you wouldn't have to put up with MLP. Or that one time when you guys were chillin' in your truck in the middle of nowhere and some police dude came banging on your window and scared the living shit out of your intestines. Or when Bro got so drunk at a diner one night he couldn't hardly walk without falling flat on his ass, so you begrudgingly carried him to the truck and threw him in, plopping down beside him in the cabin of the truck because fuck sleeping anywhere else, the seat was the only comfortable spot.

            Good times.

            You're reminiscing when Bro pulls over to a Wal-Mart. That too brings you back. Once it got so hot that the temperature hadn't been under 1oo degrees all day, and Bro let you squish yourself into one of the fridges in a fairly-empty aisle of a grocery store. Then you remember how you got kicked out when a concerned mother reported you to the manager. You remember running breathlessly to Bro's rig as an employee chased you out, laughing so hard you could barely contain yourselves.

            "It'll be cool in there; wanna go?" Bro turns off the engine and begins getting out. It's too hot to even move, but you comply. Bro keeps a brisk pace; he always manages to look like he's got places to go and people to see, no matter where he's actually going or the people he's actually seeing. You struggle to keep up with him. All around you are white trash and hispanic people with little kids running dangerously up and down the parking lot, speaking a language that almost held you back in high school.

            You breathe in a deep sigh of relief when you step in the doors. The sound of a buzzing air conditioner and the feel of cool air wash over you simultaneously. You can feel Bro's amused smirk on you, but you don't care enough to stop branching out your wingspan and stretching out your limbs. It's been a while since you stopped.

            "Come on, Dave." Bro waves a list in your face and leaves you behind in favor of a shopping cart.

            "Can I sit in it?" You gesture to the kiddie seat, and Bro's gleaming approval of your question gives you the green light. You hop in as nonchalantly as humanly possible and act like you aren't awkwardly folding yourself into a child's seat. When you're settled, both of your faces are as impassive as if you were still walking beside him. A few sideward glances and disapproving scowls, and you know you did the right thing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WILL YOU GET WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR???
> 
> PROBABLY NOT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i didn't mean to elongate this chapter so much but it kind of happened...
> 
> also im shit at coding so deal with the weird pesterlogs for now k
> 
> also we're getting there don't give up on me yet

It's nearing dusk and you're pulling into a rest stop. Both you and Dave had to piss, so timing worked out pretty well. The rest stop slash gas station slash convenience store was out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but a looming stretch of forest and highway on either side of it. You'd go inside the store but you know damn well that they're the only one for miles and they know it too, making it easy to make things pricey (a bag of Doritos and a pack of beer just ain't worth it if it's more than five bucks). You get done before Dave, so you head back to the truck and get a granola bar out of the cooler that sits between the driver and passenger seat. While you're waiting, you notice that the sun has gone down. Dave noisily swings himself into the cab and plops into his seat.

            "Wanna crash when we get to the closest motel we can find? It's been too long since I slept horizontally."

            Dave fishes out a can of Dr Pepper from the aforementioned cooler. "Yeah, cool."

 

            It's around 10 when you're walking through the doors of a franchise motel. You pay the stout lady at the desk for the night and make your way to your room, Dave right behind you. The walls are blue with a tinge of moldy green and the guy you saw down the hallway looked like a pretty shady character, but you're too tired to even care anymore. There's only one bed and a cramped bathroom, yet nothing's ever looked like heaven more than a place where your ass can sit comfortably and you don't have to focus on a black strip of asphalt for nearly 12 goddamn hours.

            Dave's brushing his teeth when you tip back your fifth beer. A blessed patron left two packs of Miller Lite in the mini-fridge and you would've checked the date but hey, who questions free beer? It's been quite some time since you drank this much (gotta drive and all) but really, you stopped caring after the third. You'd offer Dave some (he's 22 now) but he doesn't particularly favor beer anyway. That's cool with you. More for yourself. You set your can on the end table and realize you forgot how damn _comfortable_ a bed can be, so when he comes in you flick the light off and tell him he can do what he wants but you're sleeping, with an albeit near-drunken slur. He reclines back in one of the chairs and flicks through local channels on the cable tv as you drift to sleep.

 

            Your name is Dave and wow beer vomit is gross.

            A bunch of it's spewing out of Bro's mouth and (thankfully) into the grimy toilet, and you have to hold your nose as you keep Bro's hair out of his face. He wretches and dry-heaves for a good ten minutes until his body slumps against the toilet seat, his cheek pressed against the rim and his eyelids heavy. You rub soothing circles on his back.

            "You done?" You ask, concerned. His body sags.

            "... Yeah, think so." His voice is raw.

            "Bad beer?"

            "Probably."

            You silently laugh and shake your head. "Did you not check the date?"

            Bro turns over and pointedly looks at you. "Did you expect me to? Beer is beer man. Don't never let it go to-" he dry heaves again "-to waste."

            You chuckle. "Alright, whatever. Your puke, not mine."

            You step back so he has room to get up. He uses the counter for stability; he legs are still weak. He glares down at the sink, probably ashamed by his vulnerable state no matter what he'd tell you. "Can you start the shower for me?"

            You reach behind the curtain and yank the handle. He gives you a quiet 'thanks, man' and begins to undress. You respectfully close the door behind you as he unzips his jeans and busy yourself with tidying up the mess you two made.

 

            You're slipping on your shoes when Bro steps out, clothes already on and hair gleaming with water droplets. He sees you tying your laces.

            "Don't you need a shower, man?"

            You finish and hop up from your seat on the squeaky bed. "Nah, I got one last night."

            Bro eyes you suspiciously. You never take showers at night.

            "... Alright then. You ready to go?"

            "Yeah."

 

            **TG: hey lalonde**

**TG: i know its been a while**

**TT: Why yes, yes it has. Four years, to be exact.**

**TG: damnit**

**TG: dont even guilt trip me ok**

**TG: totally not what i messaged you for**

**TT: What happened to you, Dave? For all we knew, you'd died. What could you have possibly been doing for four years?**

**TG: bro kind of got a job as a truck driver and i kind of went with him**

**TT: What?**

**TG: yeah yeah i know**

**TG: i didnt know how to tell you guys**

**TG: so i didnt**

**TT: Yes Dave, ignoring your friends for years because you're off with your brother is a completely acceptable thing to do.**

**TG: i said dont guilt trip me**

**TT: I'm not guilt tripping.**

**TG: god damnit rose yes you are**

**TG: i messaged you to talk not get bombarded with passive aggressive bitterness.**

**TT: Who's being bitter?**

**TG: oh shut up**

**TG: i knew this wasnt even worth it**

**TT: Don't leave. I'm interested. I suppose I can relent my obsessive nagging for a bit. What do you wish to talk about so badly that you ventured to gracing me with your presence?**

**TG: stuff it**

**TG: and its bro**

**TT: Isn't it always?**

**TG: the fuck that's supposed to mean**

**TT: You like him don't you? Not in the, 'my brother's pretty cool and tells good jokes' way, either. I'd suspected it for some time.**

**TG: you know what i bet you get off on jumping to the chase**

**TG: cant let nobody just tell you something**

**TG: you gotta figure it out first**

**TT: So I was correct in presuming you have an unorthodox affection towards your elder kin?**

**TG: i knew this was a bad idea**

You feel yourself getting flustered and shove your phone in your pocket. Bro says nothing, just watches you out the corner of his shades as trees on both sides whirr past you. After two songs go by on the radio, you take out your phone. You could never stay angry with Rose for too long. You see a block of deceptively sweet lavender words.

**TT: Dave? I hope you aren't upset.**

**TT: So how hot are you for your brother? Only a smidge? An adequate amount?   Or are you so horribly lustful that you stuff your hands down your pants every chance you get when he isn't looking?**

**TT: Oh, what am I saying.**

**TT: You've been doing that since puberty.**

**TT: No, now you're doing things even the unnecessarily depraved wouldn't dare do. I bet more than twice his gloves have been amiss in lieu of your own... doings.**

**TT: You needn't share any details.**

**TT: As you can see, I'm quite imaginative.**

God damnit.

**TG: goodbye forever lalonde you ruined it**

**TT: You'll message back sometime, I'm quite sure.**

 

            The worst part is, she's right.

 


End file.
